


Every Day A Little Death

by alittlepieceofgundamwing_archivist



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Angst, Ficlet, Gift Fic, Heartbreak, Het, Infidelity, M/M, POV Relena, Post EW, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-08
Updated: 2013-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 20:40:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13911816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alittlepieceofgundamwing_archivist/pseuds/alittlepieceofgundamwing_archivist
Summary: by Anasazi--Ladies and gentlemen, I present Heero and Relena, the modern day Astaire and Rogers, in their classic routine -- watch as they dance the Emotional Sidestep.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).
> 
> For Dacia and her damned plot bunny   
> (See chapter 2 for original plot bunny)

The breakfast room is full of sunlight. There's silver and china on the clean tablecloth, and blueberry muffins _\--_ my favorite _\--_ steaming in a basket. Heero is already installed in his chair beside the window, reading the newspaper, pen in one hand.   
  
"Good morning," he says, gravely. He gives me that little smile that never ceases to make my heart quiver. I shake myself from my stupor and bend down for our morning kiss.   
  
His lips are warm _\--_ even after all these years, I expect them to echo the marble perfection of his body. Kissing Heero ought to be like kissing a Greek statue, but his lips are warm and a little chapped, and he tastes like black coffee, eggs, and salt. It's a little bit more than a ritual peck, and by the time I straighten up, his hair is a little bit more mussed, and I'm breathing a little bit more heavily.  
  
For a moment, everything is all right, and then I step away, and the movement seems to shatter the peaceful tranquility of the scene. I still can't breathe, but now it is because of claustrophobia. I notice, suddenly, that he's been reading the sports section.  
  
Heero doesn't even watch sports.   
  
"Miss me?" I ask, following our routine. Ladies and gentlemen, I present Heero and Relena, the modern day Astaire and Rogers, in their classic routine _\--_ watch as they dance the Emotional Sidestep.  
  
"Yes." He hands me a plate. The muffin is already broken open, and a little pat of butter is melting in the precise center of the bottom half. His fingers brush mine, and my heart imitates the butter. It's not all good feeling, though. It's worse because I know he isn't lying. It's just that I'm not the only person he misses at night. "Did you miss me?"  
  
I sit across from him, bathed in the sunlight from the garden. He passes my tea over, and I sip. "Yes," I admit, feeling the sting. When we first got married, we tried sharing a bedroom. We've long since abandoned that tradition. Politicians and Preventors keep erratic hours, and our coms are prone to going off at the least accommodating times. We always eat breakfast together, though. The most important meal of the day, he says sometimes, with a spark in his eye.  
  
I know he didn't get that phrase from any public service announcement. I can almost hear the voice saying it _\--_   
  
I bite into my muffin with more force than necessary, and almost choke. "I'm fine," I mumble, before he can say anything. "So, how goes the war?"  
  
He snorts. "Some days I miss Wing." He holds up a hand to forestall my words. "Joking, Relena. Joking."   
  
I had been about to say, 'I know what you mean.' Instead, I shake my head, and eat my breakfast. He jokes more now that he's in love. Just picked up a sense of humor along the way, I expect. Bastard.  
  
He continues, giving little summaries of the things that aren't classified _\--_ mostly how much paperwork he's expected to do, and how little he likes it. I'm not really listening. I'm watching his lips move, watching the sun hit his hair, watching his hand as it curls lovingly around his coffee cup, and hating myself for ever introducing myself to Heero Yuy. His smile softens for an instant, and I know that if I were listening, he'd be telling a story about his reckless partner and some hijink they got themselves into.  
  
"That Duo," I smile, wanting to bite into my teacup and spit the pieces of china across the table. When I see that look on Heero's face, I know he has never been in love with me.   
  
"Yes," he agrees, looking less like a statue than ever. He reaches across the table and takes my hand. His touch is still enough to make me warm inside. "Relena . . . "  
  
I freeze. _Here it comes,_ I think. I'm a rabbit, caught in a web of hope and fear so complicated that the air feels like it's turned to cement. Everything seems to turn inside out, and I think I'm going to be sick. The atmosphere is poisoning me, and I pull my hand from his so I can take double handfuls of my dressing gown and will myself not to faint. "Heero?" _Is this the moment where he breaks free? Where he decides to just follow his feelings?_  
  
It would destroy me if he left. I know it. He knows it. But the perfect soldier ought to be able to answer this: Is it worse to be devastated with a single stroke, to explode on the battlefield into a million shimmering sparks, to scream until your lungs implode, or to feel your life slip away with every movement and every breath?   
  
Heero's eyes narrow at my sharp gasp for air. He considers me for a long moment before nodding to himself, slightly. "More tea, Relena?"  
  
For a moment, helpless fury grasps me. Beneath the linen tablecloth, my fists clench against my thighs, bunching my gown into wrinkles. Later I will find tiny holes where my nails have driven through the cloth, but all I feel is the burn of air in my throat. I know exactly how Heero used to feel before he pushed the button to self-detonate. _If he won't,_ I think, _I will._ The lights are too bright as I prepare to meet my destruction head on. I meet my husband's eyes clearly and hear the poisonous breath escape my lungs.  
  
"No more tea for me," I hear myself say. "I'm fine."  
  
Inhale. Exhale. I'm fine. Just a little dead.   
  
end


	2. original plot bunny

**Every Day A Little Death** (see below for lyrics)  
  
I'm not a freak for musicals, but I do love Steven Sondheim. He's brilliant, in his own way. And, along with Sweeney Todd, this one ('A Little Night Music') tops my list. I simply adore it. And even with Sondheim's penchant for truly depressing themes ('Into the Woods', anyone?), this one ends somewhat happily. But it is this song that is my favorite. The subtle agony of loving somehow who does not love you the same way in return is heartbreaking and unrelenting. It is not one act of betrayal, but a whole lifetime's worth that infiltrates every aspect of existence, even the simplest, until almost "every move and every breath" is a reminder of pain.  
  
main character: Relena _\--_ her POV, although it _could_ work as Heero POV with the lyrics being Relena's thoughts _behind_ what she says out loud  
  
type: **angst!!**  
pairings _\--_ 1+Rx1, 1x2x1  
post EW  
yaoi, het  
_(optional)_ song fic _\--_ the lyrics are powerful and _could_ be used with some damn good effects. mind you , this _does not mean_ that a strict mirroring of the song in the text will be appreciated.  >_<  
  
plot: who needs a plot, anyways... ^_^;; all I can say is that the fic itself should be like the song _\--_ no major occurences, simply a day to day life...  
  
general idea: The fighting is officially over. The gundams have been destroyed, and peace prevails over the earth sphere and the colonies. Relena and Heero marry. The do not rush into a loveless union. It takes a year for Heero to ask her, but he does, fully believing that what he feels for her is Love (note capital). It's not until years later (say 3 or 4) that he realizes that this isn't the case. He turns to Duo, with whom he truly _does_ find Love. There is no bad guy, here. Relena is not a conniving wench who forced Heero into marriage. Heero is not a cad who has no care for Relena's feelings. Duo is not the back stabbing other 'woman' who wants nothing more than to steal Heero away. There are, after all, quite a few differences between Heero and the Dragoon of the song. Charlotte's husband is a bastard who sees women as little more than toys for his lust and affection. No matter that he returns to his wife in the end, this does not change the fact that he's a total smeghead who would have seen the keen end of a blade before he ever came near me again. *ahem* Heero loves Relena, as something more than a sister, but less than a wife. He cannot live with the idea that he might hurt her, and he knows full well, as does she, that Relena would be devastated if he left. But he refuses to sacrifice his own happiness for her, so he gives in to his long standing attraction to his best friend and discovers with him a bond that will keep him sane in a situation to which there is no real solution. Heero has made it his priority both to give Relena the affection she needs and to keeping his relationship with Duo under wraps, but, nonetheless, Relena is perfectly aware that he is no longer merely _her_ knight in shining armour. She hates him for this. She hates that he still looks upon her with fondness and touches her so sweetly and shares her bed with ardor. She hates that he can make her breathless with a kiss, despises the fact that he can brighten her day with a smile. And she loves him desperately. So desperately that she lives with the fact that he's not in love with her, that he's in love with Duo, because she cannot conceive of living without him even though living with him is destroying her.   
  
[ **note** : on the line "He talks softly of his wars and his horses and his whores." I kept in in because.... what the heck else was I supposed to do? The song is not a true and literal voicing of Relena's feelings, after all. Consider this talking of his job (as a Preventer, _not_ Relena's bodyguard, for reasons that I can explain if you really need me to) and of Duo, whom he does _not_ talk about as if he is his lover. it's simply that Relena knows, anyways, and that, as kind as Duo is to her and however much she might have liked him before, a part of her now hates him. referring to him as a 'whore' would be Relena being bitter. she does _not_ mean it and does _not_ blame Duo. she does not lay blame anywhere. ]  
  
[ **note 2** : concerning Duo _\--_ first off, he is a part of this fic only through the eyes of others. secondly, he was **_not_** pining away in misery during those first few years of Heero and Relena's marriage. when Heero and he fall in love, it is at the same time and quite gradually. ]  
  
bunny wranglers: Anasazi _\--_ Every Day A Little Death [ aug 03 ]

+

Every Day A Little Death (Stephen Sondheim)  
[ **note** : this song is a duet. I've changed a few things so that it is _not_. you couldn't really sing it this way, but that's beside the point. ^_~ ]   
  
Every day a little death   
In the parlor, in the bed   
In the curtains, in the silver   
In the buttons, in the bread.   
  
Every day a little sting   
In the heart and in the head.   
Every move and every breath   
And you hardly feel a thing   
Brings a perfect little death.   
  
He smiles sweetly, strokes my hair,   
Says he misses me.   
I would murder him right there, but first I die.   
He talks softly of his wars  
And his horses and his whores.   
I think love's a dirty business....  
  
I'm before him on my knees  
And he kisses me   
He assumes I'll lose my reason and I do   
Men are stupid, men are vain,   
Love's disgusting, love's insane,   
A humiliating business...  
  
Ah, well...  
  
Every day a little death  
In the parlor, in the bed  
In the curtains, in the silver, in the buttons, in the bed  
Every day a little sting, in the heart and in the head  
Every movement, every breath,  
And you hardly feel a thing  
Brings a perfect little death.  
  
Every day a little death  
On the lips and in the eyes  
in the murmurs, in the pauses, in the gestures, in the sighs   
Every day a little dies   
In the looks and in the lies   
And you hardly feel a thing   
Brings a perfect little death. 


End file.
